In a small, quaint town, nestled in a valley, lay the CountryMatcher Inn. Generals, corporals, and sergeants were there to hire men for war. Late one evening, as the moon cast shadows, a dispute arose. Two men squared off, hands poised to fight, their faces twisted in hate. A shrill scream pierced the air, cutting through the night. All eyes turned toward the sound, drawn by the tremulous call. There, on the floor, lay a man, crumpled in a pool of crimson blood.